the Collar
by lholmq42
Summary: After she loses a bet with Maura, Jane finds herself unable to back down on a promise as a very long workday starts to turn... strange. Nine chapters, rated M for language and talk about sex. No explicit MA stuff, but it heads for Rizzles.
1. Chapter 01 Wednesday afternoon

**Authors note and warning:** I had a simple idea; _what if Jane promised Maura to do something silly, and couldn't back down because she'd never go back on a promise to Maura no matter how nuts things got._ I had a sketchy plan, worth maybe 1000 words as a writing exercise. And then it got away from me.

 **Background:** Mauras' techs call themselves 'the Queen's subjects'. These are movie cops doing movie cop things, and if you trust net fiction for legal (or other) advice you _should_ be in jail. I own nothing, and I have no connection to real bands, trademarks or people mentioned in this story so please don't sue or otherwise threaten me. English is not my native language, and I love Bulwer-Lytton so sometimes I write weird things on or off purpose. I'm afraid of Betas, thus all mistakes are mine. This is Alternate Universe land, and **out-of-character is the _whole point of the story_.** My version of Maura may or may not do sarcasm.

 **Triggers:** There is swearing and discussion of sexual things. It heads for rizzles at full steam. No explicit MA stuff but some definite heavy breathing. If you want pure and cute, stay away. Italics may be emphasis or internal monologue.

* * *

It kicked off on a Wednesday.

"Hah! You lost the bet, and now you have to wear something that I bought for you _all day_ tomorrow." Maura was gloating. Jane was impressed that she even _gloated_ in a cute way.

"Oh god, you're gonna put me in some frilly blouse or three-inch heels and murder my feet. I know it. I should never have made a bet with you..."

"No, you should know better by now. Don't worry, I wouldn't put you in clothes that make you miserable. In fact, you can cover this up by wearing a turtleneck if you feel too embarrassed by it." Maura smiled.

"It can't be underwear, then. That would be covered up regardless. What kind of clothing is cover-optional when I'm at work?"

"I never said clothing." Maura opened a drawer and pulled out a flat carton with a ribbon on it.

"You had something _prepared_ already? When did you buy that, and how long have you been planning this ambush?"

"I bought this for you almost two years ago, and it's been waiting for the right moment since. The 'ambush' was all your idea, I did not trick you into making a stupid bet. This gift just happens to fit the occasion perfectly. Much better than expected, actually."

"Can I open it? I may need to plan tomorrow's outfit around it..."

"You don't own anything remotely resembling outfits, but you are right. It will require some planning."

Jane opened the box. Inside was a spiked dog collar with a small hanging brass sign dangling beneath it: "Owned by M".

"You bought me a SLAVE COLLAR?" Jane was wide-eyed but somehow did not sound offended, just shocked.

" _No!_ It's not a slave collar. It's more of a pitbull nature, not at all about submission. Quite the opposite." Maura grinned happily with a touch of triumph in her voice and a slight flush on her cheeks.

"Why on earth would you buy me an attack dog collar with your name on it?"

"It was after you saved me from Hoyt. You always protect me. You are always aggressive for me. Always in my corner, fighting for me. _My_ savior. It was funny. Now, it's even funnier. The expression is 'you got owned' am I right?" There was no trace of sarcasm in Maura's voice, only pride over her friend.

"Of all the slang you had to pick up on _that_ one." Jane was turning the collar over in her hands, looking at it while smiling distractedly about the compliment. Maura considered forfeiting it right there and letting her off the hook. It was inappropriate for work, after all, and she had made her point.

"Do you have other things lying around as well? Stuff that you have bought that's waiting for the right moment?"

"Oh yes."

"Huh. Well, I can't make this work with my blazers but I have an idea. Might get some stick from Cavanaugh though, and you _know_ I'm going to get tons of shit from the guys for this. They'll all say we're in a S &M relationship..."

"We're not, and I doubt you'd be into S&M anyway. I think you get enough pain on the job. I'll tell everyone that it's not about that." Maura said it soberly, earning her a blank look from Jane. She recognized that look, the special vacant stare Jane had when she was rearranging facts in her head to test some new model of thought or idea. Maura wondered what she was processing this time. Probably how she was going to explain the collar to the PD.

"I'll wear it from the moment I get out of the shower tomorrow until I go to bed and that's a promise. If Cavanaugh gets on my case about it you'll have to defend me. That's your job as the owner, right?"

Now Maura felt disoriented. Clearly she had not thought all the details of this through, but on the other hand she had not expected Jane to actually agree to wear it at work.

"I'll be there for you." she said, and quietly added "Always." mostly to herself.

"This could be fun." Jane's sudden smile was like a small sun with cute dimples and Maura could feel herself melt a little. "I need to go dig through a wardrobe, but I'll see you tomorrow morning. You'd better be in the bullpen to explain this to everyone when I arrive."

Maura nodded. "Of course. I promise."

Jane left, fiddling with the collar in her hands again, still smiling.


	2. Chapter 02 Thursday - the sparring

Thursday morning, seven o'clock.

Maura had arrived half an hour early to deal with mountains of paperwork but had gone up to the bullpen five minutes before seven to be there when Jane arrived. She was concerned, but looked perfect as usual in a tight sand-colored skirt-and-jacket combination over a buttercup yellow blouse.  
She expected Jane to show up in the collar, and Cavanaugh to demand she take it off, and Maura was there to defuse any problems that might arise from this. It was just a silly bet, after all, and nothing worth a reprimand or friction with the lieutenant.  
Then Jane strode through the open doors to the detective bullpen and Maura's mind halted, along with all conversations in the room.

She was wearing tight black jeans, a tight black tank top, the collar and a hip-length black leather jacket with an off-center zipper. She looked _stunning_ , like some heavy metal dream made flesh. She even looked taller. Maura checked her feet. Jane was still wearing boots, but these had heels and very complicated straps-and-buckles. They were a far cry from her usual door-kickers. Jane had been raiding parts of her closet that were rarely disturbed.

"Yes, people, I stupidly made a bet with Maura _again_ and I'll be wearing this all day. No, I'm not into S &M. No, I'll never learn from some mistakes. Yes, it could have been a LOT worse, I could be here in a hula skirt and coconut bra but Maura's too nice for that. I figure if I only play bad cop all day and not go near any grieving relatives we can make this work. Will you help me out, guys?"

Maura marveled at the opening line. Jane had defused the critics, made it seem like _Maura_ had picked out the clothes, had figured out a way of sneaking around the inappropriate-ness of the ensemble and got the rest of the team to pitch in and help her make it through the day. It was a chess gambit anticipating all the oppositions' moves.

The detectives gave a slow clap but there were no catcalls or whistles. Either everyone was too intimidated by Jane, or there was so much appreciation of her form that no-one wanted to mar it with crude comments.

Frost walked past Maura and leaned close to her in passing. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. You have _excellent_ taste. She's a keeper." He walked off toward the break room to get coffee and hide his enormous grin. Maura followed him with her eyes. Jane was explaining the bet to a cluster of detectives who were trying very hard to not openly stare at anything below her collarbone. A few of them were making discreet thumbs-up signs to Maura when Jane wasn't looking. Cavanaugh was watching from the door to his office, eyes narrowed. Maura decided to do a bit of blocking and absorb some of the ire before he could lash out at Jane.

"Good morning, lieutenant."

"Hello, doc. Your idea, I hear?"

"In part, yes." _No need to risk hives, when the truth could work just as well as a lie._

"That is far from work-appropriate for police, but Rizzoli has a point. If she keeps away from grieving relatives and the press I'll let her keep it for today. If anyone outside homicide comments, I'll say she's prepping for undercover work."

"I could just ask her to go home and change clothes. It's no big deal, it was just a bet."

"You know something, doc? I don't think so. I've seen Rizzoli back out of bets a few times when she's considered the price too high. I've never seen her back out on a bet with _you_. In fact I think she'd rather get fired than fail on something she promised you. You may want to keep that in mind when you make deals with her in the future. It carries a lot of responsibility." Cavanaugh looked directly at her, driving the point home.

"I'll remember it. Thank you."

Jane came sauntering over, or at least tried to. The clothes did not lend themselves to her usual confident swagger, so it morphed into something more nervy and aggressive. Maura had always felt that some clothes carried themselves and affected the wearer's stature – at least on her – and this ensemble obviously did the same for Jane. Leather-and-jeans-Jane had a tinge of adrenaline in what she did. Maura thought she looked delicious.

"I haven't dressed like this since I was 20, and I've _never_ worn a collar like this before." Jane grinned.

"Will this teach you to not make bets with me?"

"Doubt it. Given time I could get used to wearing this, at least once in a while. Ask me again later today when I've had it on a bit longer."

Maura felt a warm wave flow through her body again. The thought of rocker-Jane stalking around and intimidating people was a bit of a turn-on. The collar that had just seemed like a fun, romantic and slightly goofy idea when she bought it looked a lot hotter and more serious around that slim neck. _Owned by M_. The thought of rocker-Jane stalking around Maura's house in that collar was even more interesting and made select parts of Maura pulse. Maybe she could convince Jane to... she shook her head. This was not a good time for zoning out. Her phone dragged her back to the present. She answered, and listened while Jane looked at her eyes, gauging her reactions, trying to see if it was a call-out or internal work.

"I'll be down at once." She hung up. "I'm needed in the lab. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, how about lunch together?"

"Yes please _._ Ooh, I have an idea! You remember 'Marseille'? Let's eat lunch there on my dime. I can't _wait_ to see how the maitre reacts to the two of us when I show you off." Maura smiled mischievously and walked toward the elevators. Jane stared after her wearing the vacant look again. The rest of homicide watched Jane idle in place, making discreet bets about calendar dates and outcomes.

\- R&I -

Jane settled in to do paperwork in order to stay out of sight and keep a low profile, but was constantly interrupted by officers who came in to ask about strange and more often than not completely irrelevant things. After rudely dismissing the fourth nonsense request in fifteen minutes she realized that people were coming just to check if the rumors were true about the collar, and she retreated to the break room with her stacks of paper instead. It was weird and inconvenient, but not really unexpected.

Twenty minutes later Frost and Jane got a call-out. A body with visible blunt force trauma plus bullet holes, found in a parking lot in a mixed residential and business neighborhood. The Rizzoli-Frost combo meal arrived at speed in a dented sky-blue Cop Vic and parked on the curb since regular black-and-whites, Maura's prius and a grey forensic van already – annoyingly – crowded the lot. Frost stepped out of the passenger side, looking dapper and in control in a tailored gray three-piece, lavender silk shirt and shiny shoes. Jane climbed out from behind the steering wheel, looking dangerously feral and attracting a lot more attention from the assorted personnel and random passers-by.

The uniform standing guard over the crime tape recognized Jane, like most men (and many women) in Boston PD, and wisely avoided asking why she was dressed for punk revival rather than detective work. He held up the tape and Jane scowled past him making a beeline for the body. Like everyone else who got close enough he saw, and read, the metal sign under the spiked collar and stood unfocused for a couple of seconds while his mind and libido digested the implications of 'owned'. In his mind there was no question about who the owner was. He turned to sneak a look at Jane's ass and instead got the full force of the Cobra Stare since she anticipated it and met his eyes as he turned. She snarled at him, continued to the body and stepped carefully around it to stand beside Maura who was busy taking and preserving swabs and samples.

"People are having a lot of fun watching me." Jane talked to Maura while following Frost with her eyes as he headed off to get crime scene background from the uniforms.

"I only gave you the collar, the rest is self-inflicted and that officer was not trying to get a better look at the collar." Maura produced a Mona Lisa smile while swabbing the wounds on the body.

"My ass is my private business, not his. He shouldn't look at it."

" _I_ look at it."

" _You_ look at my ass?" Jane felt her gut clench for a moment, and warmth spread out from it in select directions.

"Yes. I think it looks very attractive, especially in those jeans. Am I not allowed to look either?" Maura was putting swabs in sterile tubes and labeling them while she talked, apparently 100% concentrated on her work. Jane was staring at her, 100% concentrated on staying upright instead of collapsing in a puddle of hormones as her mind filled with unexpected and very explicit images. _Be cool, be cool, stay on track._

"You are allowed, he isn't."

"How come?"

"You're my..." Jane felt her train of thought derail. "You're my... owner." _That did not come out right. I think._

"And therefore I'm allowed to look at you?"

"Yes."

"Do you look at me? Like that?"

Jane suddenly felt like a small mammal frozen in the middle of the road while something big and bright approached. She decided to brave it out.

"Yes I do. You are a very hot woman."

"I'm glad to hear it. I look forward to a detailed conversation about this when we get home."

The bright light resolved into a semi. Today might be a good day to turn into a crunchy pancake after all. She had forgotten that the workday would end at some point and she would spend the rest of the evening at Maura's place.

"No problem, I have nothing to hide." _Just my emotional balance and my biggest secret ever._

"...And no way to hide it from me. Don't worry, Jane. I'll be gentle."

Ka-fluff, fluff-fluff, fluff-fluff. Semi: 1, helpless bunny w/ fresh tread pattern: 0.  
Jane raised a cold hand to her suddenly hot forehead and tried to focus enough to get at least vocal and basic motor skills online again.

"I need to go. Over there." She pointed to a spot at random without looking and stalked off while groups of PD personnel watched her go and Dr Isles stay with a proud smile and an unsettling gleam in her eyes, still marking sample tubes.  
Everyone realized something serious was happening, but it was not 100% clear what it was. Either Dr Isles and Detective Rizzoli had been a pair for years and were falling out, or they were actually just best friends up till now and were falling _in_. Either way it would be prudent to keep the distance. Getting too close would mean getting mauled by Rizzoli at the very least and only God knew what Dr Isles was capable of if she ever got angry enough to harm someone.

Jane stood in front of a shop window and re-organized her thoughts for the second time that day while staring at nothing. Keeping a handle on her swiftly developing relationship with Maura was edging into a half-time occupation. It had gone from best friends with a subtle sprinkling of hope-of-more to something decidedly beyond just friends but not exactly a commitment – yet – in a matter of hours. She was re-sorting and analyzing conversations and innuendo until her eyes suddenly focused and she realized she had been staring at a wedding dress in the window for ten minutes. She groaned in frustration and marched back to the crime scene. Everyone from the PD was watching her. Bystanders were watching her. _Pigeons_ were watching her. She gritted her teeth and high-stepped back over the crime tape scattering witnesses, nervous uniforms and various subjects of the Queen of the Dead. Only the pigeons were unimpressed, but on the other hand it was well known that you _might_ get a Boston pigeon to blink if you struck it with a hammer. They were – oddly, for birds – unflappable.

"Jane, heel." Maura said it casually and at normal conversation volume but through some freak psychosonic effect it carried far and wide. Everyone stiffened minutely except Jane who growled and changed course toward her. After the previous bit of vocal sparring she was painfully aware of Maura's very shapely ass in that tight skirt as she sat squatting next to the body. If she stood behind Maura to look over her shoulder she would inevitably stare at it and drool, drawing attention to herself from subjects and uniforms. If she stood in front of Maura she would probably be staring at her legs and halfway up her skirt instead, calling attention to herself from Maura. She needed sunglasses. She carefully positioned herself to Maura's side, getting an eyeful of her breasts in profile instead. It was deeply unfair that she had no body parts that weren't alluring.

"You rang?" Her Lurch imitation fell flat. Maura was all business.

"Preliminary cause of death is gunshot plus blunt force trauma. The weapon is roughly finger-wide and heavy. The wounds have minor parallel tears in the skin orthogonal to the direction of the wounds, and the alternating widths of the imprints combined with the tear pattern gives me the impression that we are looking for a piece of folded rebar used as a baton. I'll know more about the bullet caliber when we have measured the wound channels at the lab."

"So someone came here with an iron rod and started beating on the guy, then corpsy here fought back and rebar guy pulled a gun and dropped him. Sounds plausible?"

"Plausible. The victim has been dead since around six o'clock, any hope of finding witnesses from that time frame?"

"Lots of shops means lots of people around. Someone should have seen something even if it happened early in the morning. Some of the shop owners could have been loading in supplies and restocking around then."

"Do you have any special plans for that wedding dress?"

"As a matter of fact I do, but I haven't popped the question yet so it's all a bit premature." Jane was struggling to stay still and not run off whimpering. The stakes were much too high for her taste today and her mouth kept taking the initiative without consulting the rest of her. She was not ready for pressures like these when under-caffeinated.

"You'll tell me when you decide to make any major changes in your marital status, I hope."

"You will literally be the first to know." A crash made them both jump and they turned and looked at a mortified subject who had dropped a tray full of gear on the pavement and now tried to avoid eye contact and look casual.

"It's almost nine o'clock. How about I make a lap and look for witnesses, and then we go and eat lunch?"

"Good thinking, my lunch reservation at Marseille is from eleven to one. I'll help butterfingers here pick up the things he _eaves_ -dropped. See you in about two hours." Jane walked away while Maura stood and prepared to embarrass her minion to death.


	3. Chapter 03 Thursday - the scandal

Jane spent the next hour and a half talking to invisible people.

She was drinking coffee and eating huge salted pretzels while talking to street vendors, sweepers and delivery people, bribing them with coffee, pretzels or hotdogs. They were all people that the general public never noticed even when actually doing business with them. In contrast, these people usually noticed _everything_ since situational awareness was a survival trait in the city.

Unfortunately none of them had seen anything go down. A few had arrived at roughly the same time as the early uniforms, but most of the vendors had set up their carts after eight o'clock when the cop circus was in full swing already, and they were just happy to take advantage of the sudden influx of police. On one hand half the parking lot was closed off, removing valuable parking space from customers. On the other, _all_ passers-by wanted to know why cops were all over the area and a polite conversation and bit of gossip about the killing could easily turn pedestrians into customers.

Jane dropped hints about the state of the investigation and traded fluff for information. Word on the street was that the victim was a local dealer called Floyd who had a reputation for being rough on his customers and willing to sell to those normally considered unsafe, such as youngish kids and other people who had family members that still cared. Nobody thought the loss of Floyd would harm the local user ecology, and it seemed he had few fans in life and none in death. Jane worked her way through a dozen local hawkers and realized five minutes before eleven that eating two large pretzels and drinking six cups of coffee right before an expensive lunch might have been a mistake. She called Frost and told him to start looking up the delivery men who had been there earlier in the morning, and walked back to the parking lot and rejoined the Queen and her subjects.

Maura addressed her crew with the short information snippet "time for walkies" and abandoned the stunned group of forensic assistants with Jane in her wake, heading for the car. As soon as they stepped into Maura's prius the subjects pulled out phones and started messaging anyone not on scene and filling them in on what was going on. The natives at the morgue and crime lab were growing restless since all the action was out in the field today. There was an intense demand for details and photos, but nobody was willing to risk taking pictures of Isles and Rizzoli in mid-courtship. There is a fine line between brave and reckless and the whole thing was unnerving. Before today everything had been crazy but safe. Now it was just crazy.

\- R&I -

They stepped into Marseille, with Maura leading the way to the maitre d's pulpit.

"Dr Maura Isles and _friend_." The maitre nodded and made a mark in his ledger, then looked up and took in the full extent of 'friend'. His jaw dropped.

" _Madame!_ Perhaps your friend..." he could not think of a polite way to convey the enormity of Dr Isles friend's appearance.

"Perhaps my friend what?" Maura regarded him coolly.

"Madame, our establishment has a dress code."

"Trousers, jacket, shoes. Exactly which is contrary to your dress code? I see several guests dining right now that match the description."

"Madame, you are always exquisitely dressed but your companion is..."

"I take full responsibility for her state of dress. After all, she belongs to me." Maura nodded to the collar while Jane watched the scene, stone-faced but internally bubbling with laughter (and some internal squirming over the phrase 'belongs to _me_ ') as the maitre did a double take. "Must I take my patronage elsewhere?".

The maitre froze at the thought of losing the very esteemed Dr Maura Isles and above all the whole local branch of the Isles Foundation as customers.

"Certainly NOT! Your usual table?"

"Of course. Let's be seated." She walked into the dining room with total confidence and head held high, followed by her avenging angel in black and the maitre trailing behind completely bereft of his usual arrogance. They headed for Maura's table, where Jane pulled her chair out and helped Maura get seated before sitting down herself. The maitre handed them menus and made himself scarce and Maura barely suppressed a giggle.

"I've wanted to deflate that man for so long. He is a bit pompous and overbearing. I hope I didn't offend you?" she looked at Jane who looked back through narrowed eyes.

"You are getting a lot of mileage out of this collar and I'm having doubts about that "it's not a slave thing". You keep referring to me as something halfway between furniture and pet." She frowned.

Maura's face fell and she became dead serious. "No, please. I never meant to offend you. If you feel I overstepped the bounds by all means take it off and change the clothes too. I'm just enjoying the situation and I find I like giving people the wrong impression about our situation today."

"So you're saying you wouldn't mind people believing you have a live-in sex slave?" Jane raised an eyebrow.

"I think I need to consider my answer for a moment."

"More specific: you wouldn't mind having ME as a live-in sex slave?" Jane kept the eyebrow up and tilted her head slightly while fireworks went off in her guts and her internal voice of reason screamed _what are you doing?!_ at top volume.

"Never." That answer came without hesitation. "Not you."

"I'm not desirable, despite these clothes and your collar?" Jane sounded dismayed by the rejection.

"Very desirable, but not as a slave. I would _never_ want to reduce you to some compliant warm body." Maura sounded so earnest and spoke with such heat that Jane lost her sarcastic distance and just stared at her. Their odd banter while among the PD personnel had come to a halt when they got some alone time. This was weird in a different way.

"You actually mean that, don't you? You had to think twice about whether you'd like having some submissive toy around, but the idea of making _me_ submit made you recoil immediately."

"You understood that wrong, but that's not the important part. One of the things I enjoy with you is your independence and free will. Reducing you to a yes-sayer or meek housewife would be... I think 'sacrilege' is the word I'm looking for. And that was _not_ what the collar was about when I bought it. Not at all. I would never give you a demeaning gift like that."

"Wow." Jane fell silent for a moment. "I think I want to ask you many _many_ questions about this, but not right here and not when you're enjoying this so much. I'll play along as your toy for today, but we'll get back to this later." She smiled, taking the edge off the words. Maura smiled back weakly. The maitre reappeared and took their orders, and they settled in for lunch while the other patrons glanced at them out of the corners of their eyes.

It took almost half their lunch hour, but Maura eventually regained her good spirits and mischievous enjoyment of the scandal they were creating. By the time they had made it to dessert, Jane had also gotten back into the spirit of things and spent ten minutes spoon-feeding Maura chocolate crème while other guests tried in vain to ignore the scene, the R-rated sounds Maura was making while eating the chocolate and the fact that this leather clad vision of depravity did not eat any dessert herself. Considering how famous the Marseille's chocolate crème was, that meant either that she was a diabetic, on a _very_ short leash or downright masochistic. The fourth alternative – that Jane had accidentally stuffed herself before arriving at Marseille and barely had room for the main course – was of course unknown to the public.

When Maura and Jane finally left more than one customer was idly considering the keeping of large pets, though not out loud. Maura checked the tally before paying and noted that the maitre had waived the cost of the dessert with the comment "wonderful show". She winked at him as they left, and was delighted to see him turn beet red.

* * *

Chapter notes:

Maura-eating-chocolate is pilfered from RileysHell's "How To Pretend You're Maura Isles' Girlfriend". Sorry, RH. I'll make it up to you somehow. :-)


	4. Chapter 04 Thursday - the alley

They were both distracted during the ride back from lunch.

Maura dropped off Jane at the crime scene and went back to the lab. She started doing the registration work on her body swabs, handing them over to Susie's team in batches once they were entered into the case database. Susie was doing the parallel work of registering clothing, found objects from the crime scene and other sundries that her team had been responsible for gathering. They were sitting at adjacent desks, almost shoulder to shoulder. Maura did her job on autopilot, spending the time mainly thinking through what she and Jane had talked about during the crime scene visit and subsequent lunch. She was making lists of facts and examining highlights from their conversation like it was any other case except with a huge emotional investment on her own part.

Susie kept glancing at her boss. Dr Isles was a bit machine-like at the best of times when focused on her work, but this was extraordinary. She was obviously only present in the physical sense, but as far as Susie could tell she was doing a perfect job on evidence entry. Apparently Dr Isles' autonomic nerve system was smart enough on its own to do complex work without involving her actual brain, or maybe evidence entry had evolved into an extension of her breathing reflex. This could be the basis of a career-changing scientific article, but the sample size – one person – was a tad small.

Susie worried that something was going to go wrong between Dr Isles and Detective Rizzoli. Their relationship was a delicate balancing act, and the last 24 hours had apparently introduced a rogue planet into their celestial harmony. Susie swore for the umpteenth time to do whatever it took to help them along. She had been shipping her boss since day two of her employment, and now the brakes had finally come off and the Isles-Rizzoli drama train was picking up speed. She just had to make sure it didn't jump the rails before it reached the destination. Her own feelings about these ladies were firmly on the back burner. She loved them both, but would rather see them have each other than come between them. The drama train was indeed a _train_. A careless person might get crushed and the train might never notice.

\- R&I -

Jane was checking the alleys around the crime scene and talking to the street locals, which meant junkies, homeless people and dealers. She left interviews with shop owners and tenants to the uniforms, since she looked closer to "thug" than "detective" today. On the other hand, she got much better contact with the outdoors- and sporting types than usual. Maybe _not_ wearing a blazer was a useful thing now and then. She was handing out coffee- and soup vouchers to the homeless as she interacted with them. She bought these at bulk discount from the Wired Puppy, where she had an agreement with a very nice barista who had a medium sized Jane-crush. She paid three dollars per five dollar voucher, the Wired Puppy was proud to help improve life for people in need (good marketing!) and the homeless could always sell them on for the printed value if they decided to focus on other beverages.

After half an hour of interviews Jane followed directions into an alley looking for a street person known only as "Holter" who had apparently seen the beat-down happen, and found him arguing loudly with himself behind a dumpster. No-one had warned her that Holter might be coming down off something. She took one look at his eyes and began to back-pedal but not fast enough. He hit her in the chest below the right shoulder, and she dropped on her back in the street rubble. Holter lost focus when she vanished in thin air from his point of view, so Jane got a precious second to gather herself, and then she sprang into action. She came up off the asphalt screaming with rage and launched herself up and forward toward him. Unfortunately for him, Holter took half a step forward at the same time so Jane connected solidly with her forehead on his nose. It started spraying blood everywhere while he stood swaying for a few seconds. Then the hit registered through his drug haze and he fell like a tree, out cold. Jane leaned on the dumpster, waiting for her head to stop spinning and her mouth to stop swearing.

The uniforms and subjects heard her before they could see her, and for the third time that day Jane stopped all work at the crime scene. She came out of the alley with her face and tank top covered in blood spatter, dragging a limp body behind her with one hand and growling a non-stop rant to herself and anyone within earshot. "...son of a bitch I'm gonna fucking STOMP you when we get back to the department and if you think I won't press charges you have another thing..." She hauled Holter by the collar a full block down the street, across the edge of the parking lot and over to the uniform still guarding the crime tape.

"You, Ass-man! Do you have a notepad?" She dropped Holter and rolled him over on his side so he wouldn't choke. She kept her foot on him to keep him from rolling onto his back, and stood there looking like a city hunter posing with a dead trophy.

"Me? Yes!" he pulled it out and Jane started issuing orders.

"Take this down. Date: now. Place: that alley up there, fill in the name 'cause I have no idea. This scumfuck, alias Holter real name unknown, is charged with assaulting an officer, name Jane Rizzoli, det... hell, you know who I am. Take him to mass general for a full check up including quick drug screens so we know what he's on. They have to check his nose, which I busted, and document any other marks so no-one tries to argue police brutality later when we interrogate him. You pick one of these crime techs to go with you with a bunch of evidence bags and a tyvek footsie and you'll let the tech bag everything Holter has on him and enter it as evidence. Let the tech do that so it gets done _right_. It's not that I don't trust you, I just know how fucking hard it is to do properly and they are trained to. God _damn_ my back hurts! When hospital has signed off on him, you take him to the station and book him as my collar with you as assisting. Oh, by the way, get him a pair of crocs because the tyveks are fucking hopeless to walk in without shoes and get one of the techs to collect all of his stuff from the alley so it doesn't get ripped off. Got this?" She unconsciously wiped her hand across her mouth, turning the spatter into a solid red mess, then looked down at her sticky palm. "Shit! Read it back to me."

"Time, place. Get a tech, go to hospital, drug panel plus full body check, evidence-bag all his things, bring teletubby to work in crocs. Your collar, me assisting, tech to archive his stuff from here, shit. Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Why me?"

"Good vibe from my owner." Jane flicked the brass sign with a nail, trying not to smear blood on it.

"Why?"

"Apparently you two appreciate the same things." Jane gave him a big grin, all perfect teeth in a face smeared with blood and eyes full of adrenaline. He flinched as old herd instincts told him to get the hell out of there.

"Why don't you do this yourself? Why give me part credit for your arrest?"

"Because now I'm covered in _evidence_ and I don't have time! I need to check in at the crime lab and get his blood tested for infectious stuff and have my own bruises documented. She would go ape if I took it elsewhere. Go book this guy, Assman. Take whatever credit you can for it. I'll even do you one better: I promise I won't yell at you when you look at me this time. That's a one-time offer, courtesy of Dr Isles." She raised an eyebrow, stepped off Holter and stalked off toward another uniform to demand a ride. Dozens of eyes followed her as she moved, one pair was glued to her ass so hard she could feel them.

* * *

Chapter note:

The barista (and the rest of the Wired Puppy) is pilfered from ArcadiaArden's "Synergy & Symbiosis". Sorry, AA. I tried to treat her well.


	5. Chapter 05 Thursday - the blood

Jane arrived back at Cop Central still wired on fight-or-flight adrenaline.

The driving uni let her out of the rear seat of the black-and-white and she walked in through the revolving front door. She was almost used to stopping conversations by now, but this time it wasn't because of the rocker getup but the amount of blood on her face and body combined with the fury in her eyes. She waved her badge and ID at the desk officer with her mostly clean left hand, stomped past him and slammed the heel of her right on the down button by the elevators leaving a smeared partial. Her eyes found her reflection in the metal doors. She looked like she had stepped out of a zombie movie. Today was just a solid wall of weirdness. Her back had stiffened during the ride and now started hurting for real. She rode down to B1 hissing in pain and steeled herself for reactions from Maura, Susie and various other subjects. She stepped in and raised her hands to avoid touching and contaminating anything by mistake. People were staring at her, frozen. Maybe walking in covered with blood and with a gun on the hip wasn't such a great idea after all.

"Folks, this is NOT MY BLOOD, but I need a full blood-work and tox on it and a medical checkup on myself because I was hit real fucking hard by a scumbag and I need my bruises documented. Where is Dr Isles?"

" _Jane_ , what have you done?" Maura came rushing out of her office.

"God, you sound like my mother. Some asshole picked a fight with me. I've got evidence all over me, so we need to bag at least the top and register it and swab the rest of me. I'm keeping the goddamn jacket no matter what. You need to help me get clean, and you need to get a camera to photograph the damage. And can I have some painkillers, please?"

"Language, Jane. Where are you hurt?"

"He hit me here, and I landed on my back and that hurts like a son of a... kitten. I headbutted him and probably broke his nose, that's why I'm covered in this stuff. It's all his. Can we take this somewhere else where I'm not on display?"

"Go into my office and don't touch anything. Susie, get the #2 Pentax and evidence bags and a blue swab kit. You're recording, I'm assisting."

"Me?" Susie looked uncomfortable and had her hand up to her mouth trying not to bite her nails.

"Yes, of course you! You're my second in command and in charge of evidence, time to separate your feelings from your work."

"Uh... OK. I'll be there in a minute." Susie started gathering the kit while Maura and Jane walked into the office. Maura shut the blinds over the window facing into the morgue proper.

"Why is Susie so wound up? She should be used to seeing wrecked people down here?"

"Not living, and also it's _you_. She's very good at this, that's one reason I hired her. She's the one I want behind you in court if it goes that way."

"She has some problem with me? I had no idea. What did I do to her?"

"Nothing at all, she cares about you and doesn't like seeing you hurt. Now _don't touch anything!_ I'll be handling all evidence, she'll be taking the pictures and registering everything."

"Why don't you do it all yourself?"

"I'm a medical examiner, I deal with bodies. Are you dead?" Maura was looking through a cabinet full of bottles, looking for the right medication.

"Point taken. God my back hurts." Jane groaned in pain and tried to check her spine for loose bits without dislocating her arms until Maura slapped her fingers.

"Will you please stop touching yourself and moaning! I'll give you what you want in a second." Jane squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. That line might sound different to someone outside the room with no view of what was happening. Maura handed her two ibuprofen and a mug of coffee. She disappeared out into the lab for a moment and came back with a handful of ice cubes that she dumped in the coffee to cool it down to drug-swallowing temperature. Jane swallowed the pills and gulped the coffee, then tried to prepare for the ordeal of evidence photography from the evidence's POV.

Susie arrived with a tray full of gear and a camera on a tripod. Maura pulled down a neutral backdrop from the ceiling and stepped aside, and Susie started taking pictures of every part of Rock'n'roll Rizzoli. While she documented debris on Jane's clothes and the blood spatter on her face, Maura pulled on a disposable plastic apron and a pair of blue gloves. After a dozen pictures from all sides, and a few of just the hands to document the unmarred knuckles, Maura helped Jane remove the jacket. The moment when Maura stood an inch from Jane and carefully slid it off her shoulders was intimate. There was a certain amount of synchronized breathing and eye contact. Susie had discreetly switched the camera from 'still' to 'film' and recorded it all without upsetting anyone by mentioning it. The photo process started over. New photos of the torso and the blood spatter on the top.

When Maura peeled off her tank top both Jane and Susie looked flustered for a moment, and the photo session started on the third lap. The temperature was definitely rising in the room. There was a big bruise where Holter's fist had connected, right across the shoulder strap of the gray sports bra, and Maura held a ruler to Jane's chest as Susie kept clicking. Her back was also bruised from landing on debris in the street. Maura helpfully pointed to sore spots with a pen while Susie kept focusing and zooming to get details on individual bruises as well as the whole torso, documenting everything.

Maura squatted in front of Jane, unbuttoned her jeans and peeled them down her legs to drop them around her ankles. There was enough electricity in the air to make an audible hum, and it actually distracted Jane to the point where it began to mask the pain in her back. Maura took a moment to look up and make eye contact with Jane from the squatting position, face just inches from her panties. Jane tried to swallow, with little success. Susie was doing a discreet deep breathing exercise to calm down, glancing at the camera to verify that the video was indeed recording properly. Maura stood up and moved to the side again and the bruises on Jane's legs and ass were measured and documented.

Then Maura looked at her bra and frowned.

"You think I should wear a nicer bra?"

"Yes, because this one has blood on it. It seeped through the tank top and into the stitching. You should discard it. We'll register it as evidence with the rest."

"I need to wear _something_ , Maura!"

Susie was standing perfectly still while her eyes darted between them like she was a spectator at a tennis match. She looked like she would fracture from stress at any moment.

"We'll wipe the jacket down and sterilize it so you can wear it to get out of the building, and I'll drive you directly to buy a new bra and a T-shirt. What do you want to do about the collar?"

"The damn collar stays ON until I'm done with it! I made a promise." Jane growled. She was not going to fail on that now.

"So, I'll take off your bra and we'll take some more pictures, and then we'll wipe you, the collar and the jacket clean with rubbing alcohol after we've taken samples. Are you OK with this?"

"Sure, let's get it over with." Maura started pulling off Jane's bra, acting out various private fantasies of all three parties. Jane noticed that for some unclear reason they were _all_ blushing, not just her. More weirdness. She concentrated on not reacting to the situation. Unfortunately her nipples had their own agenda and betrayed her by becoming hard enough to mark glass. She blamed the cool morgue air. It might not stand up in court, but she would stick with it.

"Susie, take the final set of photos and then make sure you personally hold on to them until one of us asks for them. We do NOT want these to spread anywhere. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dr Isles." Susie's voice was an octave lower than usual. She cleared her throat.

"Do you want to wipe down Jane or the jacket?"

"You take care of Jane, I'll deal with the jacket. I'll clean it under one of the fume hoods. _Please_ lock the door before you start anything!" Susie took a deep breath to calm down, snapped half a dozen pictures of Jane's breasts and attempted to make her way out of the room, but was grabbed by Maura who insisted on more pictures in several angles plus profile shots from both sides and of the back now that the bra no longer obscured any bruises. When Maura was finally satisfied two dozen pictures later, she accompanied the slightly wobbly Susie to the door and locked it behind her after handing her the camera and jacket.

"So now you're going to run a wet sponge all over me to get the blood off?" Jane could feel her heart do a good impersonation of Roger Rabbit in hyper-active mode and her voice was not quite steady. Maura went to a cupboard and came back with an orange pump bottle of liquid soap.

"No, now you're going to use the decontamination shower in there and wash yourself with this soap. This is pre-surgery scrub-down soap and it kills anything that could harm you. In fact I think I'll call it 'Jane-soap' from now on." Maura smiled brightly.

"So why did you tell Susie you would have to wipe me down, and why did you offer her the job?"

"I'm trying to figure out where she stands on a couple of issues."

"And this helped?"

"Tremendously. I have a much clearer picture of her mindset now, thanks to your help. Now be a good girl and get in there and wash the blood off your face. There is regular shampoo as well, but you really should use the decon shampoo this time. I'm serious. It's in the matching orange bottle. Brush your teeth too, you might have gotten spatter in your mouth and traces can remain even if you've swallowed. There is a listerine bottle by the sink and disposable toothbrushes on the shelf. You'll find a tube of my skin conditioner in a drawer to the right of the sink, the Jane-soap is tough on the epidermis."

"OK, I'll be out in fifteen minutes or so. Hopefully I'll have something to wear then."

Jane walked into the decon bathroom to scrub down and Maura sat down at her desk to muse over the day's events while lifting samples from the boots and jeans. The day had been stressful so far, but also the most fun she'd had in months and their relationship was definitely coming off simmer and heading for boil. She was making a list of things that needed to be dealt with when they got home from work tonight. It was alphabetized.

She briefly considered using the first picture of blood-covered rocker Jane as a personal christmas card to her this year. She had instantly associated the image with documentary films where predators ate their prey. Jane's blood-smeared face looked like she had eaten a suspect. She had been standing with her bloodied fists on her hips, feet wide apart, looking defiantly into the camera and oozing confidence. Maura felt her heart do somersaults. _My champion._ _My_ _warrior._

Susie knocked on the door and waited outside holding the jacket.

"Would you like to come in and wait for Jane to come out of the shower?"

Susie made a strangled sound. "I think I should keep an eye on the tests, really."

"Susie... _I know_ but I haven't told her anything yet, I promise. You can trust me."

"I do, Dr Isles. Always."

"Please call me Maura. And Susie?"

"Yes?"

"Merry christmas, even if it's a little early." Maura smiled and her completely innocent smile looked anything but.

"Oh god!" Susie turned on her heel and rushed away, blushing.

A few minutes later Jane emerged from the shower wearing one towel wrapped around her chest and using another to press water from her hair. Maura waited for her, sitting on the desk with a spray bottle in her hand.

"Take off the towel. I'll spray your back with a topical analgesic while we wait for the ibuprofen to kick in."

"I love you!"

"I know."

Maura gave her back a quick mist and handed her a dry towel which she wrapped around her chest again, gasping with relief as the immediate pain subsided. Maura held out her jacket and she shrugged into it and zipped it around the towel, looking slightly strange dressed in black on black with a fluffy blue terrycloth top. They left the office and headed for the garage, and Jane once again felt many eyes following her with one pair glued to her ass.

She had worked out a couple of things in the shower, and she intended to have a conversation about Susie with Maura once this collar insanity was over.

* * *

Chapter note: "Shipper Chang" is inspired by the brilliant "Morgue etiquette" by Alias424. I beg your pardon.


	6. Chapter 06 Thursday - the underwear

The shopping trip started out uncomfortable.

Maura drove to her favorite bra supplier, Goldstein & Karlsson, which was far out of Jane's league money-wise and also far out of her comfort zone. This establishment usually catered exclusively to the rich or hugely-busted and Jane fit neither category. She was pretty sure that she was the first customer to walk in sporting a towel and a dog collar but no money. It was airy, spacious and tastefully decorated with artificial flowers and hand-painted silk accents on the walls. Jane felt she fit in like an oily diesel engine.

Maura took the lead, explaining to the assistant that her _friend_ had gotten soaked in blood while dealing with a suspect, and now she needed a quality replacement bra and a number of matching panties. Jane once again felt the tingling sensation when Maura referred to her as a _friend_ while implying much much more, and the companion tingle when the person Maura was talking to filled in the blanks and looked at Jane with varying degrees of lust and awe. This could potentially get annoying, but it was very flattering and a pretty strong turn-on. She was so distracted by the bit of role-play that it took her a moment to realize that Maura had more or less intimated that she had beaten someone to a pulp.

Maura sent Jane into a roomy apricot-pastel booth ("Go in and _stay_! Goood girl.") and the assistant reappeared with four different black bras and a fistful of matching panties for each in various cuts. None of them had a price tag and both Maura and the assistant refused to tell Jane. In the end she selected one that was comfortable and not too heavy on the lace or embroidery. Maura told Jane to evidence-bag her old panties and handed her a new pair. While Jane grumbled and complied Maura chatted with the assistant and asked her to give Maura's regards to Miss Goldstein. Jane reflected that _of course_ Maura would know the owner personally while she pulled on her jeans again and noted that they were covered in street crud on the back after her lie-down in the alley. Probably another first in this boutique. She stepped out wearing the selected bra and both Maura and the assistant nodded in agreement, though the assistant looked shocked by the amount of bruising and old scars.

"Maybe we should look at something in leather as well? It would match the collar nicely." The sales assistant sounded helpful and eager to please. Maura actually considered it while Jane furrowed her brow.

"The collar is just temporary."

"Why? It looks great on you." Jane tried to come up with a sensible reply, and failed. Then she wondered just what conclusions the assistant had drawn from her collection of bruises. She pulled on the jacket over the bra and the assistant took a step back and fanned herself. Maura smiled her million-watt smile. Jane zipped the jacket all the way while giving the assistant a medium squint.

"So, we head for the cash register?"

"Of course not, they'll add it to my bill. We head to a store to buy you a shirt. Even if _I_ think you look fine like this, I'm guessing Cavanaugh would not approve."

The assistant muttered "better than fine" while bagging the rest of the underwear. Jane marched towards the door, feeling a need for cool air, and Maura trailed behind smiling like she'd received the best compliment in weeks and carrying the stylish shop bag containing a BPD lab towel, four fresh panties and one used pair sealed in an evidence bag.

Once they were back in the prius Jane wanted a distraction, mostly to take her mind off the fact that she suddenly felt half naked in just bra and jacket even if nobody could see. The assistant's hot flash had unnerved her a little.

"People are very laid-back about our fictional relationship. You'd think that someone would get upset about you ordering me around like that."

"Why? Most of them have never met us together before, and they obviously assume we are a couple enjoying a bit of role-play."

"And you feel that would be something we would try?"

"I do. Especially since we're actually doing it right now." Maura smiled.

Before Jane could process this and come up with a coherent response they stopped in front of a black shopfront with painted-over windows and the single word "SHOCK" scrawled in red over the entire front of the building.

"Are you taking me to a porn shop to buy a shirt?"

"Don't be silly, I would never take you to a porn shop to buy a _work_ shirt. Shock caters to rock stars and rock fans. I have the perfect idea." They went in. The shop interior was like a mostly black kaleidoscope. There were smatterings of color on clothes with a 50's styling, on some shoes and on a riot of aloha shirts but at least half the stock was in shades of black. Jane stared at kilts covered in rivets and a leather tuxedo while Maura went into a labyrinth of T-shirt racks and came back with a black shirt with a huge white print of a band logo. It was a drawing of a face that was all concentrated rage, and a single word curved over it: MOTORHEAD, complete with heavy metal umlaut.

"Why do you want to put me in a monster T-shirt, and who are Motorhead?"

"A timeless English metal band. They are very good. You should do a duet with their singer, the two of you would sound awesome together. I will make a note of it for karaoke night."

"You listen to metal? Who knew. And the specific reason for choosing Motorhead is...?"

"The way you drive. Admit it, the name fits. You should know I listen to anything made by interesting creators regardless of genre. Heavy metal is structurally no different than Stockhausen."

"You think Cavanaugh is going to accept this as workplace attire?"

"The shirt is no problem compared to the collar. I'll handle Cavanaugh, you just get back to work."

"This is the longest day of my life. I can't wait to get home and relax."

"I only promise that we'll get home to my place, we'll see about relaxation. Let's ring this pretty thing up."

"You don't have a running tab here?"

"Do you want me to set one up?"

"Forget that I said anything. Let's get out of here before you buy me a corset or something." Jane's mind strayed for a moment to fond memories of their evening undercover at Merch. Maura had a corset-friendly figure. In fact it was generally friendly to all things.

"Would you like a corset? It's a very attractive look."

"I prefer them on you." This time Jane actually halted in surprise at her own words. She had answered on auto-pilot, all the damn chaos held her off-balance and she kept blurting things out without thinking. She did a facepalm and took a deep breath.

"I'll add that to the long list of things I've learned today. This has been a _very_ productive day, I must say."

"Your mileage may vary. For me it's been wall-to-wall trouble."

Maura paid for the shirt, and the terminally bored teenage girl behind the counter looked at Jane like dirt-covered women sporting dog collars were an everyday occurrence. Considering the clientele, maybe it was.

Jane got into the back seat of the prius to wriggle out of the jacket and into the shirt while en route back to Cop Central. Maura struggled to keep her eyes on the road and failed miserably but still avoided hitting other traffic. As they got out of the car Jane and Maura discovered that the new bra, unlike her usual sports bras, was designed to project and support rather than confine and restrain. The shirt, although her normal size, was a lot tighter than expected in some places. The unzipped jacket hung very differently compared to this morning. This brand-new elephant in the room joined the already established herd unmentioned.

They walked into the morgue and were greeted by a whimper from Susie who excused herself and sprinted for the break room to pick up coffee and her lost composure. By now Jane was finally desensitized to odd reactions and chalked all of them up to sartorial trauma. Tomorrow things would be back to normal. Most things. Hopefully.

Maura scanned the bloodwork report and declared Jane un-poisoned by Holter blood and Jane headed for the elevators to return to the homicide floor. Frost was in the bullpen, toying with his cufflinks while reading reports about the early morning delivery men and looking annoyingly crisp in contrast to Jane.

"Has Holter been brought in yet?"

"Bronwyn came in with him about fifteen minutes ago."

"Who the hell is Bronwyn?"

"The officer you signed on as assisting the arrest?"

"Ah, Assman. I had no idea his name was Bronwyn."

"You call him Assman?"

"Yeah. Don't ask."

"I don't have to, I can figure it out on my own. Also, you seem to have grown a size or three since lunch?" Frost kept his eyes locked on her face, but they both knew where his mind was going.

"My normal underwear was stolen by the minions in the lab. I don't think this day can get any stranger now." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Is he down in holding or have you brought him up?"

"Bronwyn pulled him in here directly to save time, but I think he mostly wanted a word with you. Korsak is warming Holter up right now. Wanna go in and be bad cop?"

"You bet. I have a head start, I've already broken his nose. I'll just make a call and I'll be right in." Jane sent a text to Maura: 'Guy who hit me is in interro. Tune in if you wanna see.' Then she made herself a big mug of coffee and brought it into the interrogation room. Korsak and Frost were already seated opposite Holter, and Jane leaned against the wall. Since she had physically struck the suspect she would not be part of the interrogation until she had been cleared of all suspicions of wrongdoing, but she could stand there like a gargoyle and intimidate as long as she didn't interact with him.

Holter was wearing pink crocs over a white tyvek suit that made papery rustling noises any time he moved or breathed. He watched Jane with wary eyes, obviously expecting more violence. He had a nice double black eye and his nose was covered in a lump of white surgical tape, making him look like the world's most charmless panda. Jane leafed through the after-action-report from the hospital and got confirmation that the nose was broken and he had a bump on the back of his head from landing on his skull as he went down. Mass general had dosed him with something with a long name to clear his head of recreational chemicals, with a footnote that mild paranoia and nervousness was a common side-effect from the combination.  
He was squinting at her collar.

" _Who_ owns this bitch?"

"That would be Miss M, and I'm telling you with complete honesty that you do not want _her_ to get her hands on you." Korsak sounded like he was describing Jack the Ripper. "Detective Rizzoli here is the nice half of the pair. Miss M has her wrapped around her little finger." Holter looked up at the almost-snarling Detective Rizzoli and made a quick estimate what the owner could be like. No, he would probably not want to meet her.

"I have nothing to say. And Miss M or not, you aren't allowed to beat confessions out of people."

"We would never beat you, Holter. It's not our style."

"So what does this M do, then?"

"She gets _information_ out of people, not confessions. She doesn't have to hit anyone to do that. These aren't the dark ages, we have _tools_ for these things now."

"For what things?"

"Whatever she needs. Frost, do you remember what that guy Grady looked like when Miss M was done with him?"

"Oh god, don't remind me. Please." Frost was suddenly shiny with cold sweat. Holter watched him with a puzzled expression.

"...The way his chest looked like he had sort of collapsed in on himself..."

"Whulpf!" Frost grabbed the trash basket and threw up loudly. Holter recoiled. There was no way that was fake. Whatever this nameless psycho had done was bad enough to make a hardened detective toss his cookies just _thinking_ about it. Holter wanted no part of this. He was going to answer any questions they asked, as fast as he could. He looked up at the rocker girl with the spiked collar and wondered what she saw in someone that twisted.

\- R&I -

Maura sat in front of her computer, watching the delayed feed from the cameras in interrogation and enjoying the mind tricks Korsak played on the suspect. She was not happy that he abused Frost's delicate stomach to bolster her reputation, but she quite liked being portrayed as a badass for once. Korsak wasn't really lying, nobody _wanted_ to end up on her tables and Grady had fallen off an overpass down onto cement and was a bit shapeless from the start. When she was finished with the autopsy he was shapeless with big stitches. Not a pretty sight, but not all her fault either.

She leaned back in her chair and focused on Jane, thinking hard about this day and how everything stayed slightly out of balance. The collar gift had either backfired spectacularly or delivered beyond her wildest expectations, she couldn't tell.

In a few hours they would be going back to Maura's house, where a number of topics would be on the agenda. All of them had been off-limits as recently as yesterday, more than half of them were of a sexual nature. In just one day they had moved the previous safe lines of conduct so far that their old habits seemed a distant memory.

She decided to push ahead as far as possible, since this was a Cinderella day. Once the collar was off there was a risk that Regular Jane would try to retreat into safety again, and Maura was not willing to go along with that. _Onward ever, backward never._ Maura wanted Jane in her life, 24/7, and that included in her bed and not just while sleeping. Her examination of Jane's discarded underwear from the bra shop indicated that Jane would approve of the idea.

* * *

Chapter note:

"Goldstein" is a real person, who I had to write out of the story to comply with the rules. "Karlsson" is an ex-boss who I miss.

The T-shirt is the classic "Motorhead England", minus "England" to not offend people in the ex-colonies...


	7. Chapter 07 Thursday - the club

Jane came out of interrogation and immediately called Maura.

"I'm heading back to the scene. Do you feel like going for a drive again? Frost will be busy prepping Holter for the visit from the DA and Korsak is getting me cleared from brutality charges against him."

"Yes, motorhead, I would rather drive you than take the risk of you driving yourself. I worry about your health. I need you safe and sound next to me."

"I'm working on it. I'm coming down in a minute. You heard what he had to say about something called 'Jay's place' at the end? There are a bunch of club kids hanging out there who had a beef with Floyd, I'm thinking maybe one of them wanted to score a hit without paying and it went wrong. Holter said he saw an old red car in the lot when the shooting went down, maybe someone knows the car. Can't hurt to ask."

\- R&I -

They arrived at Jay's place and went down a long staircase to the basement bar. It was darkish, it was gloomy despite being mid-afternoon and it held about twenty 'club kids'. The kids were goths, roughly 2/3 were girls or androgynous to the point where Jane couldn't tell the difference. She sighed, this was one insular community that wanted no contact with outsiders. Her experience with Boston goths were that they were charming and fun when alone but tended to stick together like velcro given half a chance, and if they got a moment to bond nothing could separate them or convince them to share information with 'regular people'. This lot came pre-bonded. Their best lead was turning sour.

White, silent faces watched Jane lead the way down the stairs, with bright and cheerful Maura in tow. Jane blended in fairly well with the monochrome group except for her natural tan, but Maura's buttercup blouse was like a beacon in the semi-darkness. This was going to clash in all kinds of ways. Maura headed over to the bar and looked at the bottles lined up against the big mirror, searching for favorites.

A short girl in corpse paint looked Jane over and said "Nice clothes, lady, but isn't Motorhead a bit old-school? Why not Type O?"

"Not my choice." Jane flicked the name tag with a finger for what felt like the fiftieth time this day. "Owner dressed me today." It got easier to say every time.

"And who's this owner guy?"

"I am." Maura spoke with her back to the room, still looking at bottles. "Type O lack energy. Motorhead have it, in spades."

" _You_ own _her_?"

"Body and soul." The goth crowd turned toward her in unison. Jane had no idea what just happened, but something in the air changed. It was like they all heard a dog whistle.

"Who are you, then?"

"Maura Isles, pleased to meet you." Maura smiled at the girl in the mirror.

"No WAY, you're _Maura Isles_? Queen of the Dead?" The awe in her voice was obvious.

"Who?" a number of the other kids reacted to her tone.

"Chief ME of the commonwealth. She knows _everything_!"

"You're a medical examiner?"

"Yes." Maura turned to face them.

"Why?"

"Someone has to speak for the dead. That's what I do." Somehow Maura had said the exact right thing and most of the crowd flocked around her like she had become a magnet for death groupies. She was a glowing yellow spot surrounded by blackness. They were all asking questions about her work and herself, very politely, and she was answering them with patient and serious replies. Jane just stared. This was the first time she had seen anyone crack this particular crowd. It probably counted as a miracle.

"This lady is your SO?"

"What's an SO?"

"Significant Other. You're a pair?"

"Yes." Jane cut in and answered. "We are a pair."

"So who are you?"

"Jane Rizzoli, homicide detective."

"And you wear her collar. That's so romantic!"

"You're the first to pick up on the romance in it. Most people think it's an S&M thing."

"Puh-leeze. That's not a slave collar, that's a collar for something dangerous. A slave collar is smooth for posture or has rings for control, that collar is spiked to _prevent_ control. That's a collar for something fierce that the owner trusts with her life."

"You are the first to really get it right. I may have to buy you a drink for that." Maura looked at the girl who had spoken.

"I'm underage, but I'll have a coke."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't tell."

"I didn't think Boston PD had a forward-thinking LGBT policy." A guy with Crow makeup and a painted-on sardonic smile in black lipstick looked at Jane.

"I'm pretty sure it doesn't." Jane shrugged as she spoke.

"I guess you two are going to change that."

"I don't know that we plan to-"

" _I_ plan to." Maura interrupted Jane, speaking with absolute conviction.

"Then it's a done deal. Nobody disobeys the Queen." Jane smiled. Most of the goths smiled back. It was a surreal sight. More weirdness, but somehow Jane was in as well. Nothing made sense today.

The crowd kept asking Maura questions and Jane tried to figure out a way of talking to people about the case without alienating them and making them shut her out again. A black-and-white shape appeared next to her: a girl with day-of-the-dead makeup and a black shirt and long victorian-style skirt. She had a beautifully painted black and white skull face, but it was impossible to guess what she really looked like or even her skin color. She had a red rose painted on her throat, coming up out of her collar. It was her single splash of color, drawing the eye in.

"Can I ask you a question, detective?"

"Sure, dead girl. Ask away."

"Do you know any narcs? Can I give you an anonymous tip?"

"No problem. I'll pass it on without telling them who spoke to me. I don't know who you are, anyway."

"There's a guy named Floyd who's dealing in a parking lot about two blocks from here. Real bad guy, keeps baiting us."

"Baiting?"

"A lot of us have had drug problems in the past. Having scum like that around makes everything harder for all of us. He targets them, tries to get them to start using again."

"You'd like the drug unit to get rid of him for you."

"Yes please. I don't mind dealers, really, but this guy is a predator going after people who have already gone through hell to get clean."

"Do you guys talk about him a lot?"

"Not a lot, but it happens. Every time he manages to rope someone back in, people talk about it."

"Anyone here hate him enough to kill him?"

"I don't think so. What he does is a tragedy and it's unnecessary and unfair, but not something you'd kill for. Is he dead? Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah. You must understand, what you see today is not who I usually am. I normally dress in a suit. I am a cop."

"I don't believe that. There is a lot of you in those clothes. Of course you are a detective, but you're also who you look like today. And you really love _her_ , otherwise you wouldn't wear her collar."

"I only got the collar yesterday, and I'm only wearing it for today. Tonight it comes off and goes back into a drawer. We're a pair, but we're not lovers."

"But if she asked you to, you'd wear it every day. Am I right?"

"Yes, you're right. I would. It's caused all kinds of trouble for me today, but if she wanted it I would."

"So trade it for a ring and just do it. Be lovers. Why hesitate?"

"I'm scared. I don't know why I'm even talking to you about this. If I take that step it all becomes serious and what if she gets tired of me? I _can't_ lose her. I'd never survive that."

"You can't keep her by backing away either. Staying in a holding pattern to avoid the journey makes no sense."

At the bar, Maura was chatting with her new fans. She was explaining her thoughts about death, about respect for life, about the fleeting nature and brevity of living. You are alive for a blink in time but you are dead for so long afterward. You owe it to yourself to take it seriously, to give it your all. Every now and then she glanced over at Jane.  
Jane listened, and fretted. She really should dive in, but she was so afraid to make the leap.

"Can you tell me something about how Floyd died?" Dead girl was looking at Jane.

"Someone beat him and then shot him. We're thinking possible self-defense for the shooting but the beating was premeditated. His pockets were empty, but that could have been one of his runners. It doesn't mean robbery."

"Witnesses?"

"Someone saw an old red car parked at the scene as the shooting happened, and it left directly after the kill. Could be the killer, could be another witness. We're here looking for people who can give us something more to go on."

"Robert drives an old red mustang. Piece of crap, but he likes it."

"Who's Robert?"

"The owner of this bar. I don't know his last name but it must be on record somewhere. He's heard us talk about Floyd. He was pissed that the guy was messing with his customers."

"That's a good lead. That's solid. Thank you for telling me."

"I don't talk to cops. I talked to the hot lady in the Motorhead T-shirt and the collar. I think I like her. I know I like her owner."

"If we pick up Robert for this, the bar might close you know. Would you still like me then?"

"It won't. No bar ever stays closed for more than a few days. If it's changed when it re-opens, we'll just find a new one. We're like bees, we swarm and move together."

"I think I'd like to know if you do that. Could you keep my card and tell me?" Jane handed her a business card.

"Yeah, I can do that. What happens now?"

"We'll look for Robert. If we can tie him to the killing, he'll have a trial and might go to jail."

"And you two?"

"We'll finish up work for today and we'll go to Maura's house and I'll wear the collar until we go to bed tonight. Then it comes off and this is over."

"You sleep in the same bed but you're not lovers?"

"Yeah."

"You two are truly sick people. I mean, _look at you two_. What a waste." She smiled. Jane realized that a girl made up to look like a skeleton had just told her that something was wrong with them. That was hard to ignore.

"Maybe we should do something about that."

"I think you should. If you feel you need someone to coach you along, call me. I'd get in the sack with you two in a heartbeat and show you how to do it. I can put IKEA furniture together like a _god_ , I'm sure I can figure out how to put A into slot B in your case." Jane laughed.

"You're gay and you're hitting on me right now, with my girlfriend five steps away?" _I actually called her girlfriend out loud now, didn't I? And nobody died._

"No I'm not, but I'd try it for you two. And I don't think anything in the world can come between you and her, having seen the way she looks at you. No fear, detective."

"You know what, send me a text to the number on my card and write your name and 'dead rose girl' so I'll know who you are. I'll save your number. If we need to spice things up, you're in."

"Second best news I've heard all day, after Floyd getting shoved off the block. I'm not happy he's dead, but I'm glad he's no longer picking on us. See you down the line, detective."

Jane stalked over to the bar. "Maura, we need to go back to the station." A chorus of protests voiced disagreement. "Relax, people. We'll be back. I need to go stop crimes, and she needs to protect me from roving girls who want to take me to bed."


	8. Chapter 08 Thursday - the garage

They started the drive back to the precinct in silence.

Jane was thinking about Dead Rose and her opinions about their love life, Maura was thinking about the strange connection with the goth gang. With the ubiquitous and heavy makeup it was impossible to guess the age of the people she had spoken with, but they were all uniformly polite and although they viewed death through rose-tinted glasses that she had discarded before she even started her training, they held interesting views on all kinds of things. She felt invigorated by the conversations.

"Those people were very nice, I look forward to going to Jay's place again."

"If it's still there when we're done. If the owner is our killer he could go away for a long time and since he holds the permits the bar will shutter. All the nice little bats will lose their belfry."

"That's terrible."

"He should have thought about that before he went out hunting."

"We don't know if he's guilty, but I agree. Still, it's sad."

"Dead Rose, the girl I was talking to, said they'll just move on. She said they swarm like bees, moving to the new place as a group. They are such a small subculture they really stick together."

"Hmm. Maybe I have an idea."

"About how we're gonna find Robert the bar guy?"

"About how we're going to help our new friends. Did you get Dead Rose's number?"

"No, but I think she'll get in touch pretty soon. Why?"

"I think she could give me valuable input on what they're looking for in a club or bar."

"Where are you going with this?"

"The Isles Foundation was created to support craftsmen and culture. This is a culture. The foundation could spin off a small offshoot chaired by our new friends to operate a bar of their own."

"You're going to misuse the foundation to _run a bar?_ Have you lost it completely?"

"Hear me out. Many of them are underage, I think. Nothing says the bar has to sell alcohol. It could be set up as a music place, selling non-alcoholic beverages and giving bands a place to perform. A bit like a community center? Getting underage people out of regular bars and into a better environment is a good fit for the Isles Foundation."

"You are nuts. Sweet, cute and lovable, but nuts. Even if you're just trying to turn yourself into Queen of the Bees instead of Queen of the Dead."

"Thank you. How come you're so sure Dead Rose will call you, by the way?"

"She volunteered to help us in bed." _Um, maybe I could have phrased that differently..._

"How generous of her. And of you. Bringing in a lesbian consultant to help along the sex life we do not have yet."

"Oh no, she's straight. She's just willing to make an exception for us."

"Exactly how is she different from you then?"

Jane groaned and covered her eyes with a hand.

"I am NOT ready to have this conversation in broad daylight and sober! Can we please come back to this sometime later?"

"I'll add it to my list."

Before Jane could dig herself in deeper they arrived back at Cop Central and drove into the underground garage. Jane rode the elevator up to Homicide, where she explained her tip to Frost. After five minutes of hacking Frost reported that the red mustang was a late-80:s model with very little to recommend it and that the tax had lapsed. He had also sent out BOLOs on both Robert and the car.

"So where would he hide that POS now that he suspects it's wanted?"

"There's a garage specializing in engine rebuilds and metal work a couple of blocks from the bar. He could have stashed it there. A regular parking lot has people coming through all the time but a workshop would be more private."

"Damn, I wish Dead Rose had given me her number. She might know if he does business with them."

"Who is Dead Rose?"

"A contact on the case. Never mind."

"First Ass-man and now Dead Rose. Are we switching to code names?"

"She had information about the bar guy."

"And you didn't take her number."

"She would have thought I was trying to get her into bed."

"Were you?"

"No! She offered it herself. Wait..." Jane almost hit the desk with her head. "I swear I would pay a hundred dollars to have my mouth wired shut right now. We talked, she told me about Robert and his red car, then she was upset about my lifestyle and offered to help. I gave her my card but I felt uncomfortable asking for her number."

"And you didn't even take down her real name."

"IT GOT COMPLICATED, alright? She offered to have a go with me and Maura in bed and I was a bit thrown by that."

"She's a sex therapist?"

"No, apparently she can assemble an IKEA bureau in her sleep."

"You know what, I can't even."

Jane rested her head in her hands. "This day... this day will be the death of me. I wonder if the collar restricts blood flow to my brain or something."

"I have the address of that garage. Wanna go check?"

"Please. You're driving."

"Since when do you let me drive?"

"Since Maura despaired over my driving and bought me this T-shirt as a warning to others."

\- R&I -

They arrived at the garage and took a quick look around outside. No visible movement, but sounds of air tools could be heard from inside. Jane went first, pulled the door open and crept in with Frost at her heels. Frost frowned at the slick layer of old grease on the floor, but didn't hesitate to step in it. The workshop was apparently closed, the lights were off and a dusty Charger stood abandoned on one of the lifts. They slowly rounded a corner in the L-shaped room, listening for movement or voices, and Jane saw a boxy blue car that looked like it was from the 70's. She ignored it and inched ahead, hand slowly moving toward the gun on her hip while listening for any change in the sounds. Frost, being more interested in cars, recognized the blue car as a vintage Maserati and stopped to pull his gun. No way a car worth a hundred grand should be in a crap workshop like this. He cleared his throat softly to get Jane to turn around.

"Chop shop. Exotic sportscar. Call for backup." He was whispering, but Jane understood and walked back toward the entrance to step outside and make the call. The lights came on, since she now moved fast enough for the motion detectors to trigger. All sounds stopped. Then they heard a door crash open somewhere further in, and Jane sprinted for the exit. Across a floor grating. In heels she wasn't used to.

Her left heel stabbed through the grating, trapping her foot and throwing her forward. She twisted and landed on her left hip and both elbows as the heel snapped off. She coasted several inches in the grease on the floor until the rivet on her left front pocket snagged on the next grating and she stopped with a jerk and a tearing of fabric. Her internal voice of reason screamed " _You can't die before you tell her!_ " and her heart filled with adrenaline again. Someone rounded the corner with a two-foot ring wrench in his hand, saw Frost with his gun raised and immediately turned and fled back into the shop. Jane was trying to wriggle free from the grating that held her jeans trapped, further tearing the pants leg open. Frost was calling in backup one-handed while still aiming into the back of the garage in case someone returned.

Five minutes later black-and-whites were arriving in force from the earlier crime scene a few blocks away, chased by a van full of subjects from Susie's team. They began checking the chop shop and quickly came to the conclusion that Boston homicide had inadvertently busted a car theft ring. Jane held the remains of her jeans in place with both hands and ordered a uniform to drive her back to Cop Central. Since she was covered in gunk she rode on the perp bench in the back for the second time since lunch. She convinced the officer to drive her directly into the underground garage instead of dropping her off at the entrance and she limped back into the morgue, exposing quite a lot of leg and bruised hip every time she moved her left foot forward. Once again she stopped inside the double doors with her hands up to avoid contaminating things. The subjects stared in silent awe.

"Honey, I'm home." Maura came out of the walk-in fridge, staring wide-eyed at her.

"Hi Maura. Can I borrow your shower again?"

"You've been gone _less than an hour_ , what happened?"

"We were looking for the red car and busted a car theft gang by mistake. I messed up my clothes trying to get out when things went sideways. At least they're not evidence this time."

"I'll get some de-greasing compound for your skin. Go into my office and remove your clothes again. Please put those jeans directly in the incineration bin, you look... sticky. Put anything else you want to keep in a trash bag and please don't touch anything that's clean."

"I loved these jeans. I'll miss them."

"They looked good on you, but this slit-up-the-whole-thigh look is also very attractive. It shows off your underwear nicely."

"You don't happen to have some sweat pants here?"

"Of course not, but I'll see what I can do. Any preferences about shoes?"

"Boots, not pumps. No spiked heels, please. These heels killed my pants and I've had enough trouble for one day."

"I will find something practical."

"Make sure whatever you get matches the collar."

\- R&I -

Jane went into the shower with a can of dark green goop instead of orange Jane-soap, and spent twenty minutes scrubbing grease out of her skin. Luckily just the tips of her hair had brushed the floor and she could get the crud off it with less trouble. The left leg and her hands had been deep in the stuff with bodyweight on top, and it stuck hard to her skin. When she felt reasonably clean she stepped out of the shower wrapped in more blue towels and found new clothes, and Maura, sitting on Maura's desk.

"You bought _leather_ pants."

"They match the jacket and the collar. The set was a bargain."

"Is this the same T-shirt?"

"No, I bought a new one. No point in trying to get the grease out of the first one." Jane realized that Maura had used Shock as a one-stop-shop to save time. The bra had survived, but the panties were a new pair out of the five-set.

The boots were some kind of feminine version of combat boots with a discreet heel - but still a heel - and steel toes. Since they needed breaking in, Maura had bought thicker socks to keep them from rubbing her feet raw.

"Do you realize the only thing I'm still wearing from this morning is the collar? Once I get dressed now, everything on my body has been bought by you."

"I can't help that you are tough on your clothes, but at least these won't tear. And I think it's very nice that you are dressed by me. It fits the owner motif." Maura smiled.

"Oh joy. Wait a second, you never checked my old clothes. Do you have my sizes memorized?"

Maura just looked at her. Obviously she did. And with a start Jane realized that she could have done the same thing. She could have bought a complete set of clothes for Maura without bringing notes. The difference would be that they would cost a fraction and just look like clothes while anything Maura bought looked stunning. Still, she knew Maura's sizes. She even knew the irritating differences between different makes when designers disagreed about what a number meant in real life. _Hmmm._

Jane grabbed her underwear and T-shirt and made a quick detour through the shower room again, coming out semi-dressed. In addition to the bruises on her back, she now had a palm-sized blue splotch over the left hip and blue-ish, sore and stiff elbows. Maura gave her another misting with the analgesic.

Jane put on the all-new set of leathers and walked a couple of laps around Maura's office. The jacket was short, almost a cross between a bolero and a biker jacket, and the sleeves were unusually long due to designer preferences so she unzipped and rolled them to below the elbows. The pants were tight, but not uncomfortable. The cut was weird, and Maura helpfully explained that it was a variation on riding breeches. The design was intended to keep the seat from stretching and losing shape when the wearer sat down. Jane spent a few seconds decoding this.

"You bought pants specifically designed to showcase my ass and stay as tight as possible?!"

"I bought pants designed to look nice for more than a few weeks. It's just a sound investment."

"Are you colluding with Assman?"

"I need no outside influence to enjoy looking at your ass, you should know that by now. Now please stand still while I preserve this moment." Maura grabbed a camera off her desk.

"Why?"

"Because I think it will be some time before I see you in this ensemble again and I want to be able to enjoy it whenever I'm in the mood."

"No 'me master you pet' argument?"

"No, I'm being serious now. Would you please do this for me?" _Of course she would. Maura could ask her for an eyeball and she would give it without hesitation._

It became a short version of the evidence photo session, with Jane slowly turning and Maura taking a lot of pictures from all angles while Jane felt her blush slowly deepening.

"...and a final one, please lean forward a little over the desk."

"You have _got_ to be kidding!"

"When I'm an old and lonely cat-lady this picture will be my favorite memory of the one I lost!"

"What makes you think you'll lose me?"

"Your job." Suddenly there was a catch in Maura's voice and Jane turned in alarm to face her.

"Maura, I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here." Maura was tearing up and Jane was powerless to stop it. She wrapped her arms around her and just held her for comfort.

"Hey, I promise I'll be careful and I won't leave you. We'll have those cats together." Maura sniffled on the verge of really crying.

"I called Frost while you were in the shower. He told me you could have died in that garage."

"Frost has a big mouth. He was right there with a gun in his hand to make sure nothing happened to me. He scared off the bad guy. We called for backup instead of rushing after him. I'm _trying_ to stay safe, I'm planning for our long life together."

"You are?" Jane was equally surprised. _I am? Since when?_ But looking back, it was the truth. She had been taking a lot fewer risks lately. _Huh._

"I am. I really mean it."

"Thank you." Maura sniffed again and finally hugged her back. They stood still, just holding on and enjoying the safety and warmth of the embrace for a few minutes, relaxing. "Can I please take that picture?"

"Oh for gods' sake! Yes, you can take a picture of my ass to save for your old age. That picture had better not turn into a christmas card or end up on the internet!"

"Who would I send a smutty christmas card to?"

"I have found _three_ people today who would probably like one. Four, actually. At the end of the day I'm standing here in the tightest pants I've ever worn, and you are taking a portrait of my ass. This is the _weirdest day ever_." Jane complained, but she bent over the desk and posed like any good friend would do for her LLBFF. She even curved her back a little and stretched her legs to put some sauce into it. Maura hummed happily and clicked away with the camera. She would make an effort later to find out who the fourth person was and decide if they deserved a special card.


	9. Chapter 09 Friday morning

They made it back to Maura's just before six o'clock.

Due to interesting names in the ownership papers of the garage, the car theft ring had been handed over to organized crime with a red bow on top. Cavanaugh was enjoying rubbing OC:s noses in it over the phone, while glaring through his office windows at Rizzoli's new, inappropriate and unexplained clothes as she left for the day. The night shift took over the search for Robert and his mustang. Holter was pleading guilty to interfering with a police officer while under the influence of horse tranquilizers and was going to stay eight months in jail, incidentally getting to spend the fierce Boston winter indoors with daily doses of warm food. Susie went home, took the phone off hook and ran Jane's evidence photos and videos on a non-stop loop on her laptop while setting an impressive personal record for number of orgasms in a single evening. Korsak put in a couple of volunteer hours at a dog shelter, walking dogs in the park and giving them and himself quality time. He collected quite a few phone numbers during these walks. Someone had to do it. Frost was at his gym, working on sculpting his body to display the suits perfectly. He had a small but dedicated following of gym rats who by strange coincidence always matched his gym time regardless of when he showed up. He suspected they ran a phone chain. He didn't mind, in fact he made sure to do a long warm-up to give them all time to arrive. Frost was equal opportunity.

Maura and Jane bought Chinese take-away and ate it in Maura's kitchen according to habit: neatly poured into delicate bowls and straight out of the carton respectively. When they had finished, they stayed at the table just looking at each other in silence, trying to start the monumental conversation. There was a lot to discuss. A lot of things had been said, and needed working through.

Getting started was hard, though. The banter that had flowed easily when surrounded by people dried up when they were alone again. Everything was _serious_ now. Maura thought about Cavanaugh's comment about responsibility.

"Jane, do you want to make a bet?"

"About what?"

"Truth. I'll flip a coin. You pick one side, I'll pick the other. The winner gets an honest answer to any question from the loser."

"Question about what?"

"Anything. Anything at all."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Only for someone who has something bad to hide." Maura looked into her eyes, and Jane felt her fears shrink a little. Maybe it was time to do this.

"I take heads. Heads all the way. Your tail looks much nicer than mine." _Again with the goddamn mouth!_

Maura tossed the coin.

Clink.

"Jane, do you love me? Not as a friend, but as a lover?"

"Yes." _There it was. No going back now._ "Yes I do. When everything went bad at the garage my only thought was 'I can't die before I tell her'. Now I've finally told you."

"That makes me happy."

"It makes me scared."

"New toss?"

"Yes."

Clink.

"Jane, I want this to go further. I want us to go further. Will you come with me?"

"I _want_ to, but I am so afraid of doing something wrong and losing you. What if you get tired of me? What if someone better comes along? It would destroy me."

"I can think of no-one better."

"Oh. Then... yes. Baby steps. Let it take time."

"One more toss?"

"Yes."

Clink.

"Maura, when you said you needed to think about that sex slave thing at Marseille... that worried me. What did you mean?"

"I said I needed to think about whether I cared what people assumed, you understood me wrong. Now I have considered it. I _don't_ care. If people thought I was keeping you as a toy I would hate it, but if the alternative was that I couldn't show that you were mine at all I would live with the slander. You would never be a toy to me. I want you in my life. I want you in my _bed_. I want you just the way you are right now, just more of everything."

"Flip again?"

"Yes."

Clink.

"Maura, what are we going to do about Susie? After that photo session I can't just pretend she's not there."

"I think she loves us both the way we have pretended to love each other all this time. What we have is stronger, and she knows it, but she loves us. Her love for you is a little bit more physical than her love for me. Did that make sense to you?"

"Yes, but it didn't answer my question. What do we do about it?"

"We make her part of our family as best we can. I'm not about to invite her or anyone else into our bed, but I want to make her feel happy and included. We can do that. We've been doing it with each other for years. She told me once, when she was very drunk, that she thinks you and I make one perfect person. So let's be perfect for her."

"Another go?"

"OK."

Clink.

"Jane, remember the parking lot. Tell me how you look at me. All of it."

"You hurt my eyes. It's like looking at the sun and I can only take it in a little bit at a time. My heart beats faster, I want to touch you, I want to hold you forever. I want to see you naked. I want to caress you. I want all of it..."

"What do you like best?"

"Your smile. Your breasts. Your eyes. Your legs. Your ass. Your freckles. All of it."

"That's not a good answer."

"That was your second question off the same toss."

"You're keeping count?"

"When I'm this nervous, yes."

"Do you want me to hold you and calm you down?"

"Yes."

"Let's go to bed."

"Yes."

"You can keep the collar on, if you want to. The day isn't over yet."

"Then it would be right to keep it on. I made a promise."

"All other clothing has to go, though. Pets are not allowed to be dressed in bed."

"OK."

"It was _that_ easy to finally get you out of your clothes and into my bed? I could have done this two years ago!"

"It wouldn't have worked then. I needed today."

They went to bed and just slept, tired and bruised and naked and tangled together. There would be more, but it could wait a day or two.

\- R&I -

On Friday morning they went through their usual start-of-day routines. Jane left the collar on the bedside table and dressed in her normal slacks and blazer. They headed for work in the prius and the night shift handed over the work from yesterday. The mustang had been found but the owner was still missing. Assman Bronwyn came looking for Jane and was disappointed that she was back in her regular clothes. He thanked her for giving him part credit for the arrest, and she spent some time giving him tips on how to work smarter and build a career. Frost was working his way through a never-ending list of suppliers and truck drivers who could be witnesses. Korsak was trying to get hold of tenants who had not responded to calls the day before.

Maura sent a couple of emails with test results from the crime scene samples. Her subjects had found one of the bullets, streaked with essence of Floyd, and had identified the gun as a Taurus PT 92 with no criminal history. Jane expected both the gun and the rebar bludgeon to be in the harbor by now, but unis were still checking drains and dumpsters near the club just in case.

At eleven Susie called Jane and said "Maybe you should come down here. I think Maura has something to tell you." She sounded excited. Jane rode the elevator down and walked into the morgue and was confronted with the whole crew of Queen's subjects lined up against the far wall, facing her and grinning like maniacs. Susie was front and center and looked like she was about to burst. Jane looked around and finally saw Maura, and her jaw dropped.

Maura was dressed in leather. Not one of her regular dresses, like the mind-warping blue leather number that had made Jane walk into doors twice. This was a short leather skirt, a T-shirt and a leather jacket, all black. The T-shirt had a weird japanese-looking logo and an image of a feather with blood splattered on it. She was wearing black nylons and FM pumps. She even had a leather choker with rivets, a dainty version of the spiked beast collar she had given to Jane a lifetime – two nights – ago. This was rocker-Maura and she looked good enough to eat.

Jane tried to kick-start her brain and it commented on the first thing she could focus on: Mauras chest.

"What's on the shirt?"

"Strapping Young Lad, a Canadian band. They're brilliant."

"Never heard of them."

"That's because you are a Def Leppard kind of girl, and these people are far beyond metal."

"You never cease to amaze me."

"I wasn't honest yesterday, Jane."

"What?" her heart sank like a stone.

"I do have a running tab at Shock." She gestured to her outfit.

"Oh."

"I thought about us, and I can't stand the idea of doing this half-hearted or slow. All in, Jane, right now. Are you coming with me?"

"Yes." The word came out so easily, and pulled all her fears and misgivings with it like the tail of a kite. She was suddenly completely calm and ten pounds lighter.

"OK, folks. I'm claiming this woman for myself. It's official." And Maura leaned forward and put a ring on her left ring finger. It was silvery, and had tiny writing around the outside. Jane brought the hand up to her face to read the script. It said "property of Maura Isles". She looked up just as Maura closed in and gave her a kiss that made her brain seize up again. The subjects cheered. Susie was crying and smiling at the same time. Jane recognized a real ambush when she saw it.

"Mwah! Hands off for the rest of you, until otherwise notified. Quietly ogling is still OK, by popular demand. We're going for lunch, see you in... two hours or so. Maybe three."

"Where are you going?"

"We are off to cause a scandal at le Beau Truc, and then Jane has some explaining to do about a wedding dress she was staring at yesterday. See you later." Maura looped her arm around Jane's and walked her out of the morgue.

It didn't feel weird at all.

* * *

Final story notes:

The jacket-and-jeans combo is loosely based on the look and walk of Alannah Myles in her "Still got this thing" video, minus shoulder pads and chaps of course.

The all-leather combo owes something to Motoko Kusanagi (the jacket, which she wore with rolled sleeves) and a swedish company who made leather jeans with a jodhpurs pattern for bikers. They looked strange but _hot_ on ladies, less so on gents.


End file.
